


In Kozume Kenma We Stan

by ieatbees101



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:07:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24131827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ieatbees101/pseuds/ieatbees101
Summary: I need somewhere to dump my fics from my Google Documents so all of AO3 gets to witness my utter obsession with this boy. You're welcome, Kenma fandom, I love you.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Reader
Kudos: 41





	1. Yo.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr's @popatopi and I take requests, unless you can do them on here, then just send them wherever you feel.

Hello, hi. I have a tumblr now (@popatopi) where I take requests and the like if people'd ever like fics or headcannons or whatever. I'm eager to write so send em in whenever and I'll see you whenever.


	2. Welcome Home

When schedules collided for (y/n) and Kenma, it was often difficult for either of them to concentrate without the other there. That didn’t mean they had to be close, but her volleyball plays were noticeably better during matches when she knew Kenma was in the crowd, and the CEO worked much faster with his wife sleeping nearby. Perhaps it was some sort of psychic connection - who could really tell? What Kenma did know, though, was that watching (y/n)'s official matches on his phone by his desk while he worked was definitely not as effective as listening to the fatigued girl’s soft breaths as she slept close by. Every time the crowd would cheer, the white noise filtering through his phone’s speakers, his feline eyes would dart down from the spreadsheets on his laptop. It was never usually as eye-catching as he would’ve liked and, sure, (y/n)’s team were winning (typically by quite a lot,) but watching his wife perform was much different to just observing her whole team’s plays.

The match wasn’t live either. The raven-haired male had probably seen this match a handful of times since (y/n) had been flown over to another country for the Olympics. Now, however, she had finished and was on her way back. The distance Kenma wasn’t sure of, so he’d spent the last few hours anxiously waiting for the doorbell to ring, agitatedly bouncing his feet on the floor or drumming his fingers on his desk. The concept of work had left his mind a long time ago, replaced by both anticipation and fatigue. It was late. Too late. Kenma hadn’t even bothered to check the time for the past half an hour, knowing it wouldn’t make any difference whether he did know the time or not: he would be waiting for (y/n) to arrive home until he either slept comfortably beside his wife or eventually passed out by himself. And, as his head lulled forward, the white noise erupting from his phone had gradually worn down his resilience in fighting off sleep and Kenma felt his head drop unconsciously before his head hit his desk and he shot back up. The male was lucky it hadn’t disturbed his coffee at all - atop the emotional struggle of constant waiting, he didn’t also need to reinsure his laptop. With a sleepy sigh, Kenma clicked his phone off to stop the luring sounds and played music from his computer, still determined to stay up. 

The slam of Kenma’s forehead hitting the wood had attracted the attention of all three felines in the house, who were previously all sleeping in (y/n)’s place on the bed at the back of the house. They’d taken to occupying her space after she left, and Kenma didn’t mind her absence so much at night because of it - though LuLu would sometimes mewl, being lonely at night as she would stereotypically sleep close to the girl. With as little sleep lag as possible, Kenma’s hand quickly shot out to snatch his mug of coffee into his hands as Dixie, a ginger kitten the couple had newly adopted, jumped onto the desk, scraping by the cup as she went.  
“Be careful-!” the CEO whispered, to which the Siberian kitten simply meowed loudly in response, nuzzling her head into Kenma’s hand.  
“I know, I miss her too.” He placed the mug down and gently scratched the top of the ginger cat’s head, listening as she purred happily in response. The family of four had missed the mother of the family since she’d gone away and, unfortunately, it was a regular occurrence given the volleyball player's occupation. 

And, when the doorbell finally rang, the cats knew exactly what it meant, immediately skittering over to the door and clawing at it with excitement. Much like his feline companions, though, Kenma was just as delighted and quickly spun his chair around. He practically dived out of it, turning the key he already set up in the door’s lock. The girl smiling happily on the other side barely had any time to react as she was dragged inside and jumped on by her husband and three cats.  
“Can I shut the door before you all decide to pounce on me the moment I get home?” (y/n) laughed, throwing her suitcase to one side and using her leg to kick the door closed. Kenma had latched himself to her front, hugging the woman with enough grip to suffocate a normal person. Fortunately, (y/n) was very much used to her husband’s clingy nature and let him stay there, resting his chin on her head for a bit while the cats about her legs welcomed her home in their own little ways. 

“Why’d you take so long?” Kenma eventually said annoyedly. (Y/n) raised her eyebrows.  
“What? You wanted me to wait for the plane to land faster or something?” Her husband just huffed in response and let go of her.  
“I couldn’t control how fast the plane was going, otherwise the flight would’ve been much shorter, trust me,” the girl mentioned, quickly bending down and carefully picking up the smallest of her three feline friends, “cause I missed my babies!~” She cooed at her copper kitten, listening with joy as Dixie mewled ecstatically along with her, as did LuLu and Momo at her feet. And, while Kenma did think the scene was adorable, he couldn’t help but feel a trickle of jealousy enter his heart. Quietly, he tried to mask a sigh that escaped his lips as he looked away. (Y/n), on the other hand, wasn’t that ignorant and placed Dixie back onto the floor.  
“You wanna get picked up too?” she asked. Blinking a couple times, her husband recoiled, perplexed by the strange question.  
“What?”  
“You seem jealous of our children. So do you want me to pick you up as well, you big baby?” (Y/n) teased, edging closer to the pouting raven-haired male.  
“What did you call me? And no, I’m fine on the ground.” Kenma lied. He would be fine with it if he knew (Y/n) was able to pick him up, but, with a frame that small there was no way she could pull off a feat like that. 

It was much to Kenma’s surprise when the girl bent down, curling one arm around his back and the other about his legs, behind his knees. Without another thought or objection to the situation, the CEO had speedily been taken off of his feet and had been swept up in his wife’s arms - his wife’s tiny arms. It wasn’t any sort of upgrade to his height, but Kenma still felt weird being off the ground, and completely flustered by the fact that his midget of a wife had just begun carrying him bridal style.  
“I called you a baby.” (Y/n) smirked down at wide, shocked eyes, dipping her head to place a chaste kiss on his forehead.


	3. Futile Devices

“Hey, let’s sit down for a bit!” (Y/n) issued cheerfully, bouncing over to a bench swarmed by pale pink sakura petals from the tree overhead. She bent over a bit, gazing at Kenma as she gave the bench a few pats. With a shrug, Kenma shut his phone off and shoved the device in his pocket when he walked over slowly. The two helped one another to swipe stray petals off of the seat before sitting down, a small distance between them. 

The girl took a long, deep breath, leaning back against the bench and stretching her legs out. She stared up at the sky - an expanse of a cerulean canvas spotted with wisps of white paint. A walk in the park by Kenma’s side was exactly what the girl had needed after such a stressful week of exams and coaching. It was relaxing to simply take a breath of clear air to clear her mind of her problems.

Most of them. 

Glancing to her left, (y/n) noted her friend was also taking in the surrounding forestry, flowers, and shrubbery. The bright sun and all its clouds were reflected in a small lake in front of the bench that rippled with the light breeze, only interrupted by the presence of graceful water flowers. It would have been a crime in the first year’s mind for anyone not to have appreciated how delightfully delicate and beautiful the scenery was and she was glad to have brought someone who did. In a way, Kenma’s mesmerized state allowed for the girl to debate her own reverence. To (y/n), he was perfect. Though meeting Kenma had been entirely up to chance, (y/n) preferred to think of it as destiny; a red-string, a deity’s wish, a promise she’d made to a shooting star years ago. Clamouring for a grasp on reality, the girl shook her head and tried to focus on something in front of her, to which she was only met with glinting golden eyes. She took a sharp intake of breath, realising she was powerless to divert her gaze (which either one of them would typically have done.) 

Kenma despised eye contact. He wouldn’t call it a hindrance, but hiding behind his hair was much preferred than staring at another being. It was due to the fear of judgement - he knew that much. Perhaps that was why he, for one of the first times, refused to break line of sight. The trust that had built up between the setter and the coach over the preceding months was slow and steady, but entirely necessary. Bonds with other people formed at a snail’s pace for Kenma. It was difficult to trust every person he met for a reason he didn’t fully understand, having little friends and only a couple he could call close. His insecurities acted like a roadblock and barricaded his every relationship in the beginning, stopping him from reaching that accepting light at the end of the tunnel; that light that was so clearly reflected in water. And, when the ocean looked expectantly back at him, Kenma couldn’t help but embrace how pure and welcoming the glint of sunlight was. 

“I, uhm…” At the sudden new sound drowning out the distant bird songs, Kenma broke out of whatever trance he had been in, snapping his head towards his lap instinctively, embarrassed that he had caught himself staring into (y/n)’s eyes for so long.   
“I wish we could do this all the time.” the girl spoke solemnly, now also gazing at her legs with a flush.   
“Yeah…” Kenma whispered. He played with his fingers in an attempt to distract himself from the connotations that came with (y/n)’s statement. The girl swallowed her fear. She clasped her hands together, turning them white.  
“We could.” It was a hot day, and (y/n) could feel the sweat forming on her face and in her palms.   
“What...what do you mean?” Pushing herself with her hands, (y/n) took no time shuffling closer to Kenma without moving her head, only slightly glancing up at him out of the corner of her eye.  
“Kenma, I, uhm...I can’t think of what to say really!” she laughed nervously, and scratched the back of her neck. The movement let a cold waft of air brush past the girl, secretly bestowing upon her the confidence to sit up straight and turn her head.  
“I think...I love you.” (Y/n) claimed, her face as unreadable as she could muster. Kenma was surprised before he could become doubtful. The words sounded genuine, but, like always, a roadblock settled itself into Kenma’s mind. He fully turned his head away from his friend, staring at the mixing emerald and pearl at the bench’s foot.

“You think?” (Y/n) took no time in responding with a confident nod and hum. She clenched her fists at her chest and, despite Kenma’s eyes being fixated on somewhere irrelevant, he could hear the happiness, conviction, and adoration in (y/n)’s voice, loud and clear.  
“No! I know I do. I’ve sort of been debating on it for a while - from when we first met, really.”  
“Way back then? We didn’t know each other at all. That’s stupid.”   
“I don’t think it was unwarranted.” (Y/n) countered, catching Kenma’s attention briefly as he peered at her from underneath his hair.  
“I guess back then I thought it was love at first sight...But your charm’s only grown on me since then, Kenma.”   
“I’m...charming?” Finally, the boy lifted his head, met again with the expansive ocean that only shone brighter than before. He struggled to believe anyone could ever find him appealing in any way other than for his tactics in a game he really felt indifferent towards - not for something he took pride in.  
“Pft, yeah, of course! In a load of ways. I’d be happy to tell you if only you’d indulge me.” (Y/n) smiled, outstretching a hand. Ogling the hand of another, Kenma hesitated, still unsure. The coach faltered, anxiously giggling before, motioning forwards with her hand.  
“In other words, do you maybe wanna...go out?”  
“We are outside.” Kenma responded bluntly. Bewildered, (y/n) rapidly blinked a few times.  
“I meant-”  
“But yes.” Kenma slipped his hand into the baffled girl’s, beaming genuinely for the first time in a long time.


	4. Say the Line!

“Say iiiit!~”  
“No.”   
“Aw, why not?” (Y/n) rolled over onto her back to see Kenma’s face, dropping her phone onto the bed, now uninterested. Eyes glued to the bright and flashing screen in his hands, Kenma shrugged.  
“I don’t feel like it.” he answered bluntly. Pouting a little, (y/n) sat up quickly, folding her arms and glaring across the bed at her boyfriend.  
“You’re no fun, Ken-kun.” she grumbled, dejected by his lack of cooperation. Kenma’s resistance had started an hour ago and he refused to budge no matter how much the girl pushed him. Rather than hearing the phrase she wanted to come from Kenma’s lips, the only thing (y/n) got was the occasional soft curse aimed towards the game system in the setter’s hands, which wasn’t something she minded severely. Getting into a relationship with Kozume, video games were something (y/n) knew she would have to get used to and how much attention Kenma poured into them. However, it was never something that bothered the first year since her attitude towards the pass time was exactly the same. The couple owned many of the same systems and games and often found each other playing together. Today was an exception, though, as (y/n) had left her devices at home in Miyagi rather than bring them all the way to Tokyo (with the exception of her phone.) Falling in love with Nekoma’s setter had only heightened (y/n) adoration for games since they kept Kenma’s eyes still. Eye contact with the blond was extremely rare as he despised the idea, but there wasn’t much Kozume could do to stop people looking when he was so intently focused on gaming. Even from where (y/n) was sat - on the other side of Kenma’s bed - she could take in his golden eyes fully, struck lovesick by how gracefully shaped they were (the first year inwardly thanked his parents to the end of the Earth.)

Feeling downcast by Kenma’s persistent denial, (y/n) decided to shuffle in closer, lying beside the distracted second year. Hastily, Kenma glanced down towards Karasuno’s student coach who’d now shut her eyes. He felt himself flush a little before returning his gaze back to his Vita. Despite the approaching threat of winter cold, the couple were delightfully warm laid above the covers. It was rare the two got to spend any time together outside of training camps, so the closeness and warmth emanating from one another was embraced with wide open arms. Even when training camps or practice matches occurred, the couple were surrounded by observant people (and those who weren’t so observant, obviously) and couldn’t risk being within ten meters of each other, less someone put the pieces together with how they acted around one another. Cringing a little, Kenma’s finger slipped off of one of the plastic buttons as the thought sprung to mind. It had happened so fast Kenma had thought it was a dream, but even in volleyball his hand had never moved so fast as it did when the blond threw a punch towards Lev’s stomach to shut him up. Kozume sighed deeply and restarted the mission on his game and tried to concentrate again. 

“Kenmaaaa…?” At the sudden slur of his name, Kozume jumped a bit, almost messing up the rhythm game once again. This time, he managed to maintain the streak, but didn’t look towards (y/n).  
“What is it?”  
“I still want you to say it.” (Y/n) pleaded, tugging at his sleeve.   
“No.” The girl threw up her arms and groaned, completely annoyed.   
“Why does it bother you so much?” Kozume laughed a little, pausing when he reached some downtime in the song. His girlfriend rolled over onto her side, facing the wall rather than the gorgeous cat eyes she adored - she was too fed up.   
“I don’t know, Kozume, why does it trouble you so much to say it?” she childishly spat back, curling her body into itself. Carefully, Kenma placed his Vita down and moved closer to (y/n) on his knees, leaning over her body to see her face scrunched up in mild anger. Seeing (y/n)’s eyes this close up was quite new to Kenma so he let himself stare for a bit since she refused to look back at him. The minute her eyes did snap back to his, however, the second year immediately diverted his gaze.   
“It doesn’t.” he replied, lowering his head to lay on (y/n)’s shoulder.   
“Then why don’t you say it?” she pressed. Though he knew it was mean of him, Kenma laughed quietly, smirking to himself.  
“Cause it bothers you.” Staring at the blond for a few seconds, (y/n) had to take some time to process the setter’s answer before her eyebrows furrowed in frustration. She mumbled some obscenity and looked away, ocean eyes boiling with embarrassment - she’d never be totally used to Kenma’s teasing.   
\-----------------------------------  
“Nya~...is that how it goes?” Kenma muttered the last part, slowly lowering his hands from their position he’d mimicked from (y/n), poised like a cat. He’d been staring at the floor, flustered that he’d been so easily swayed by (y/n)’s guilt-tripping. For an hour after. She’d stayed completely silent, moving away from every physical advance he tried (which was complete nonsense coming from the touch-hungry first year.) He didn’t bother looking up from where he stood until a large ‘thud’ resounded throughout his room. Quickly glancing up, Kenma had lost track of (y/n) and panicked, looking around worriedly until he saw she’d passed out, a slight trail of crimson trickling from her face.


	5. Tokyo Finals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some minor spoilers for the third season of the Haikyuu anime (the Inter-High Preliminaries with Shiratorizawa) and the Land versus Air OVA - go watch it, it's great for Nekoma's development.

(Y/n) felt as if she’d been around every dead end in the entire stadium before she reached what she was looking for. Or who she was looking for. Surrounded by a dozen red and white bags sat Kenma, head buried in his phone and ignorant to the world around him. Under her breath, (y/n) laughed a little: the action was entirely typical of Kenma and the girl wasn’t surprised by her boyfriend’s actions in the slightest. She stepped around the corner to the dead end, knocking against the wall a few times with her knuckle. Like a startled feline, Kenma’s eyes shot up to the intrusion, slightly wide and gleaming under the ceiling’s stark lights.  
“Surprise!” (Y/n) announced, waltzing closer to the boy who, compared to normal, was stunned. It wasn’t obvious to everyone, but the specific glint in Kenma’s cat-like eyes and mouth hanging slightly adjacent were extremely obvious to (y/n), who often studied his expression as if he were an entity above her (and she often said so.) By the time (y/n) had gotten close enough to speak to the setter normally, Kenma had collected himself and had returned to staring at his phone.  
“I thought you would’ve been with Karasuno.” he stated, reading through the text Hinata had sent him about winning the Miyagi Prefecture’s Pre-lims.   
“Well...truth be told, I do feel kind of guilty about leaving them,” (Y/n) laughed, somewhat flustered that she’d been targeted immediately, “I think I’d rather watch you win.”   
“We lost the first match.” Kenma spoke bluntly.   
“I know that, Pudding, it’s what people were talking about even before I got here.” Though Kenma wasn’t one to think about the outcome of his games very much, simply hearing that all people could talk about was Nekoma’s loss made him feel ashamed, as if he’d let someone down. Clicking his phone to lock, the blond dropped it to the floor, hiding his face in his knees.   
“...it’s probably my fault.” he mumbled, wrapping both of his arms around his legs, dragging them closer to hide himself. (Y/n)’s heart sunk low into her feet.   
“I’m sure that’s not true.” She rested a delicate had onto Kenma’s knee, rubbing slow circles with her thumb that she hoped offered some sense of reality. He didn’t answer her refute. Kenma sat silently, refusing to look up with his head shielded from the outside world.

With a deep sigh, the coach shifted to sit down opposite the lamenting second year.  
“Kenma.”   
“What.”  
“Look at me.” Unwillingly, Kenma lifted his head just a touch, gold peering coldly through his messy blond locks. The instant their eyes locked, (y/n) flashed the boy the brightest smile she could muster, yanking his hands out of one another and clutching them into her own.  
“You might have lost the match against Fukurodani, but it’s not the end.” Glancing off to the side, away from how bright his girlfriend shone, Kenma breathed, muttering to himself.  
“Besides, volleyball isn’t the end of the world for you, even if you are going to kick Nohebi’s ass.” (Y/n) giggled, letting go of Kenma’s hands that shot right out afterwards, squeezing them tighter than the first year had done herself.  
“I know. I think I just needed to hear it.” he whispered, the ghost of a smile forming on his lips.   
“Any time.” 

Loud footfalls alerted the two, causing their heads to snap in the direction of the open hallway. Kenma’s grip abandoned (y/n)’s hands when one of his teammates’ heads peered from around the corner.   
“Kenma, hurry it up!” Yamamoto seemed to notice the girl’s presence after yelling at the second year, instantly becoming a little more bashful and...co-ordinated.  
“Hi, (y/n).” he greeted, waving a bit. The girl smiled, waving back before the other member disappeared back around the corner. Pushing herself up on her knees, (y/n) beamed down at Kenma as he got up himself.  
“I guess it’s time to go show those snakes what for, eh?” She clapped both of her hands together, excited herself before she’d even seen the opposing team or the activity of Nekoma as a whole. Raising one foot to leave with Kenma in tow, the girl suddenly stopped. Two arms bigger than her own pulled at her torso, protectively hugging her from behind. She didn’t bother to turn her head and just smiled gently, leaning her head back into Kenma’s body.


	6. Tokyo Daylight

Laughing at a random comment from one of her students, (y/n) felt the first ray of sunlight of the day glinting over the housing district across the street, it raining down on her skin. She was still slightly lethargic from waking up early, but chose to not let it phase her since her students had been ready and waiting for her on her laptop much earlier. Some were outside in their gardens, volleyballs (or what they could find to replace one) in hand and were practicing their various specialities there; they made the most of the confinements placed onto them during a time of need. Others sat wherever they desired, having listened intently to their coach’s wise words before getting ready for their day. They couldn’t tell but, over the phone and through the video screen, her students’ diligence made (y/n) feel slightly embarrassed: she was still sitting in bed. Bed-head and all, the girl had barely woken up in time to contact all of her students, the alarm falling on deaf ears half an hour beforehand, far too nestled into her husband to realise. However, something inside the woman had made her shoot up from her sleep and scramble for her laptop sitting on her dresser. Her students were quick to respond and were very much alive with energy at the break of day, but (y/n) couldn’t quite muster the drive so early. Nevertheless, even if the woman had had enough energy to spring to life and start her day immediately, she wouldn’t have been able to.

While advising a student on how to perform receives, (y/n) lifted her arms up, showing off the position to the camera on her laptop.   
“You want it to hit about here.” she informed, rubbing her bare arm, to which the brunette on the screen nodded before turning away from the camera with her ball. Every student was busy practicing or researching, making the most of the shut-in period and ignorant to the embarrassed squeak that came from their coach. The girl’s eyes snapped down, noticing how a pair of arms had wrapped themselves around her waist. She playfully slapped at Kenma’s arms, smiling to herself when he resisted her efforts.  
“I’m on call-.” the woman shooed, trying to pry the man’s arms off to no avail. The raven-haired CEO only nestled his head further into (y/n)’s back in protest and (y/n) could practically feel the smirk on his face.  
“I don’t care…” Kenma drawled, voice still thick with lethargy. Rolling her eyes, (y/n) continued trying to wrench her husband’s arms from around her torso, to which Kenma only held her tighter. She eventually gave up, simply hoping that none of her students would notice (or at least wouldn’t point it out.)


	7. New Kit

Kenma drummed his fingers against his desk, boredly staring ahead at his laptop that presented him with a blank spreadsheet. He could still feel the bags under his eyes drooping ever slightly as the smell of burnt coffee assaulted his senses, trying its best to keep him awake. The feat seemed much too great for the CEO dipping in and out of sleep whilst sitting at his desk. 

The (majority) black-haired male was never a morning person, as much as his partner consistently told him to go to sleep in the early hours of the morning. Being a professional volleyball coach and player, (y/n) was always insistent that Kenma eat, sleep, and exercise properly, much to his displeasure. Kenma adored the idea that his partner was so caring regarding his well-being, but had no motivation to follow the strict regimes the girl planned out every day and night. He felt almost as if he was back playing volleyball under her ruling. If the woman wasn’t out at a game, Kenma knew that she would be dragging him back to bed, scolding him for staying up until 3am that morning gaming, and insisting that she do his work for him. 

With a reserved laugh, Kenma placed his head on his desk. He was way too tired to be filling in sheets that made little sense to him. Before he could fall back to sleep, though, his phone buzzed against the table, his notification ringing throughout his empty kitchen. Slowly, the CEO picked his head up and glanced towards the device. Atop the lockscreen of him and (y/n), there was a white bar. He slid the device closer across the table, staring at it with a curious glint in his eyes. (Y/n) had sent him a photo, so he tapped on the screen perhaps a little too fast for his liking. His phone brought up the pair’s messages quickly, previous messages loading in before the new picture did. It was simple back and forth like “when will you be home?” and “I’ll pick you up,” etcetera. However, the new photo wasn’t something Kenma had expected. He didn’t recognise every single face in the photograph, but, by the crimson and gold uniforms he’d designed a few months ago for (y/n)’s volleyball team.   
"I guess they finally got shipped." The group of women seemed pretty thrilled with the new uniforms they’d been given - the uniforms (y/n) had specifically requested Kenma and his company make for them. The woman insisted that everything was to be made by Bouncing Ball Corp that they used, and Kenma obviously agreed, sponsoring the Junior Olympic Team as a bonus. He wasn’t sure who’d taken the photograph since (y/n) was standing in the front with a bright, proud smile plastered onto her face, donning the coach’s uniform with pride. The teens she had on her team appeared just as grateful, showing the camera the backs of their jackets and the words scribed in gold. Kenma felt himself smile a little, secretly relieved that they’d turned out alright and everyone enjoyed the look of the kits, before he placed his phone back down, still getting used to how the silver ring on his finger felt hitting the screen.


End file.
